


February Song

by AHS



Series: Songfic Series 2 (Same Old Lang Syne) [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Queer as Folk (US) RPF
Genre: M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-14
Updated: 2008-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHS/pseuds/AHS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gale goes to see Randy.  Too many weeks of having to fill the silence.  Songfic using "February Song" by Josh Groban.  Part 2 of 3-part series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	February Song

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I made this up.

_Dec. 27, 2009..._

Gale had just gotten home, after an overnight flight from New York to San Francisco. He was exhausted and almost didn’t bother to check his messages. But, he did.

“Gale, it’s Mark… Just, uh… call as soon as you get in, okay?”

A bad feeling instantly started forming in the pit of Gale’s stomach, but he picked up the phone, dialed, and tried to play around it.

“Hey. You guys going to pieces without me already? Tell Jacob he can beat me at Uno again real soon.” The silence made the feeling sharper. “What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t heard.” Mark sounded so… _we regret to inform you…_

“Heard what?”

“I saw it in yesterday’s paper, right after you left. That guy you worked with on your show? Randy… Harrison? He’s in the hospital, Gale. I think it’s… bad.”

_Where has that old friend gone  
Lost in a February song_

Gale… wasn’t processing things right. He couldn’t be. His hearing was fucked up, or… his brain was wrong… Randy was okay. Randy wasn’t hurt. He’d just seen him. He was beautiful. He was perfect.

“Gale, you still there? I know you guys were friends. That’s why I wanted to tell you before you saw it on TV or something… Gale?”

He couldn’t breathe… But… he… had to… find out…

“How bad?” he wheezed painfully, his chest tight, heart thudding inside it.

“The paper says ‘critical condition’… That’s all I know.”

“Critical… but stable?” Isn’t that what doctors said when somebody was badly hurt but going to be okay?

“…It just says ‘critical’… Fuck, Gale, I’m sorry.”

All Mark got after that was a dial tone. When he called back, Gale didn’t pick up, because he had already headed out the door again, back to the airport.

That feeling in Gale’s stomach hadn’t started when he’d heard Mark’s message. It had started two days earlier. Now he knew it wasn’t just from letting Randy go again.

He sat at SFO for nearly a full day. The airport was even busier than usual, due to the holidays, and all the flights were overbooked. Having left his house with the same bag full of dirty clothes and shit he’d just come back with, Gale bought himself one clean shirt. Then he waited less than patiently, looking for out of the way corners in which to hide and try not to lose his mind.

***

_Dec. 28, 2009..._

Gale landed just after 10 a.m., and the new day brought with it a voice mail from Mark, providing the name of the hospital. Also one from Scott, apparently just having found out. Shit. Scotty was his friend. Maybe he should have thought of him, or the rest of them. But he couldn’t think about anybody but Randy.

He was so close, finally, every mile felt like a hundred. And once he stepped inside the intimidating, antiseptic building, every step felt like a mile. All the way to the ICU. All the way to…

Randy’s mother saw him first. Rose up from her uncomfortable metal chair when she spotted him coming down the corridor, looking like she felt, and went to him. She’d only met him once, but she had a good idea of how great his importance in her son’s life, and vice versa. His body slumped forward slightly when he stopped, and she threw her arms around him, holding tight.

“He’ll be very glad you’re here,” she whispered.

Gale pulled back, eyes hopeful. “So he’s okay? I can talk to him?”

“Oh… I’m so sorry, honey.” She squeezed his arm and shook her head, voice soaked with tears. “Randy is in a coma.”

_Tell him it won't be long  
Til he opens his eyes, opens his eyes_

“Coma,” Gale repeated hollowly.

“You should still talk to him. His mind is strong. He’s just not done resting yet. But he’ll hear you, Gale. I know it.”

She pointed to a door and gently pushed him towards it. As fast as he’d been trying to get there, now he could barely make his feet move. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Randy’s father walk up, looking very tired, and hand his wife a cup of coffee, then notice Gale and give him a weak smile and encouraging nod. Steeling himself, Gale walked to the door and just inside.

There was a nurse making notes on a clipboard, standing between the bed and where he stood. And just beyond her, he could see a hunched figure in a chair, holding a ghostly pale hand to his lips. Simon.

Gale felt suddenly like he was intruding, like he shouldn’t be there, or just didn’t want to see that, so he started to leave. But then the nurse moved, and he could see Randy lying in the bed. He was almost the same color as the sheets, except for some angry red scratches on his arms and some bruising on the left side of his face. His head and left hand were bandaged, and his body was riddled with tubes. Machines were all around, humming and beeping.

This was not a TV or movie set. This was all too fucking real. Gale couldn’t look away, even when the nurse spoke to him.

“Sir, you’re not supposed to be in here.”

“Yes, he is.” Simon stood and spoke authoritatively to the nurse. “This is Gale Harold. He’s on the list Mr. and Mrs. Harrison gave your staff. He is never to be denied access to Randy.”

Simon’s defense shocked Gale so much, he even looked up from Randy for a moment to gape at the man. Meanwhile, the nurse muttered something about “one visitor at a time” before going away, and Simon came to stand where she had.

“What happened?” Gale rasped out, his mouth so dry, his tongue stuck to his teeth.

“It wasn’t such a merry Christmas.”

_Where is that simple day  
Before colors broke into shades_

It had been a car accident, just past midnight, Christmas morning. The bad weather… rain and cold forming ice on the road… hadn’t helped, but it wasn’t the main cause. While Gale knew Randy had not had more than two sips of beer that night, another driver had imbibed considerably more alcohol, had run a red light and smashed into Randy’s car.

It seemed the airbag had deployed seconds too late. As well as some more minor injuries, he’d sustained a major trauma to the head. Hearing something about surgery “to relieve intracranial pressure” made Gale dizzy. And how that first day… Christmas day and night, it had seemed all too possible that Randy might actually _die_.

Instead, he lived through that night, and the next, and the doctors showed a fair amount of hope. But he remained comatose. Even with tests showing clear brain activity, Randy was… floating… possibly further from them all the time.

“Sit with him, Gale. Talk. I don’t think I’m doing any good.”

“Thank you, for what you said… So, I can see him?”

“Yes. You know, this is an excellent hospital, with a top-notch neurology department, but they even gave me shit at first. Wouldn’t let me see him. But between my threatening to write a scathing exposé of their discrimination towards same-sex partners, and getting hold of a copy of the advance directive showing that Randy appointed me in charge of his medical decisions, they had to. Now, with his parents here, they won’t mess with us.” Simon paused finally, indignation cooling with exhaustion. “I need to go home for a few hours, take care of some things… I’ll be back.”

The last three words were aimed at Randy, but the unexpected shoulder squeeze was for Gale. Then Gale looked around, and he was alone with too many thoughts and too many beeps and too much stillness… and him.

“God, Rand, this feels like a bad dream… Is this what me showing up in your life again brings you? It couldn’t have happened more than a couple minutes after you drove away… Shit. Five years apart, you were doing better than ever. An hour with me and you almost…”

_And how did I ever fade  
Into this life, into this life_

“Fuck.” He paced back and forth, by the foot of the bed, one shaking finger tracing a line of green tinsel that had been stretched along it. “How did I make thisabout me…” Slowly inching closer, he sank down into the chair by Randy’s side. “You’ve got to wake up, okay? Your parents are here. They’re trying not to show it, but they’re so scared. And Simon is… being so fucking nice to me. Not that he was ever _not_ nice… particularly, but… You need to open your eyes next time, just to see my expression. No, fuck next time. Open them now, Rand.”

Open… Open, please? Open.

“I should have told him, shouldn’t I? That I saw you that night? But… what good would it do? He’d just wonder why you kept quiet when he called you on the phone. I don’t want to make it seem like it was something when it was… nothing.” Gale leaned forward and placed his arms carefully on the bed, touching only Randy’s wrist with light fingertips. “Or maybe I wanted to keep us just for us… You know, you still look beautiful, even like this.”

He did. Beat up and bruised, lips dry and cracked around the big plastic tube keeping him breathing ( _shit_ ), blue eyes and blond hair hidden… Randy still looked… He still looked like Randy.

“What if I had taken you somewhere? I didn’t want to let you go again. Why didn’t I…? What if I’d just kissed you longer? Even a few seconds? Would that have made enough of a difference to keep that car from crashing into you?… At least the fucker’s dead.”

Gale went from damning himself for what he hadn’t done, to damning the drunk driver, right back to himself… this time, for what he _had_ done.

“I was driving after I’d been drinking,” he realized. “Maybe not a lot, and maybe I was fine, but… I’m not really any better than the guy who put you here.”

He stood up and crossed his arms tightly in front of his body. He watched Randy’s chest rise and fall for a minute, under the layer of hospital gown, then walked back around the bed. Wiped away the tears that had begun trickling down his cheeks at some point he couldn’t isolate.

“Maybe the difference I should have made was just leaving you alone the other night.”

Gale left the room. Left the hospital. Left behind the piece of his heart he’d almost gotten back.

*****

_Dec. 31, 2009..._

_And I never want to let you down  
Forgive me if I slip away_

Gale’s cell phone kept ringing and he kept ignoring it.

He realized the fact that he kept it on at all probably meant something. Just like the fact that he was still in Brooklyn.

He’d practically run from Randy days earlier, but he hadn’t been able to fathom really _leaving_. And though he hadn’t been back to the hospital since, he needed to know Randy was close by.

Gale had called his dad and explained why he wouldn’t be coming to visit for a while. He should have gotten a hotel room, but Mark and Deanna had insisted he shouldn’t be alone and had taken him in again. Now, they and the kids were at a New Year’s Eve party at her mom’s house, and he was ignoring calls and trying not to think of another holiday, a week before.

After his phone rang for the fifth time in an hour, Gale finally looked at the ID. Ran a hand over his hair and picked it up.

“Scott. Hey.”

“Gale, are you okay?”

“Should I be?”

Scott sighed. “…I’m at the hospital now. Peter flew out here with me. Where are you?”

“Not far.”

“You want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ve got a rental.”

“So, are you going to… come by? Mrs. Harrison says you were here a few days ago but not since.”

“If I thought my being there would help him…”

“Gale, I don’t pretend to know the details of you and Randy when we were doing the show, and certainly not for the past five years, but I know if any of us should be there with him, it’s you.”

Peter then came on the line. “Hey. If you’ve decided the right thing to do is stay away, then stay away, okay? You do whatever you feel, Brian.”

That got his attention… _What the fuck. Brian?_

“Oops, sorry. I meant ‘Gale’… I think. We’re going to go sit with our friend now.”

Good aim, Peter. Target hit.

***

_When all that I've known is lost and found  
I_ _promise you I, I'll come back to you one day_

Gale finally made his way to Randy’s floor just as Peter, Scott, and Makyla… who had apparently arrived the day before… were leaving. They all gave him big hugs and sad smiles, looked at him like they were proud of him, and then headed off to their hotels.

Mak had whispered something in his ear about “giving him something to come back to” and “what he’s always wanted.” He was shaking his head about that when he walked up and saw Simon in some guy’s arms. It could have been just comfort from a friend, but something in the familiarity seemed more than that, and it made Gale angry. What, did Simon bring a fucking _date_ to his partner’s coma? Both were dressed up, in suits. When the two men kissed, though it was brief, it was enough to send Gale running at them, yelling.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Simon? And just outside his room?”

“What are you talking about?” Simon turned to the slightly taller, reddish-haired man with the arm around his waist, and gestured towards Gale. “This is Gale Harold. Gale, this is Adam Kerrigan… my boyfriend of the last six months.”

Gale blinked and stared and shook Adam’s hand when the guy stuck it out, but mother _FUCK_ he was confused. “But… you and Randy…”

“Broke up more than a year ago.”

“…But he said-… _You_ said… when I first got here, you were going on about discrimination towards same-sex partners…”

“As far as the hospital was concerned, that was what we were. And I certainly think, in a situation like this, I’ve earned the rights of one after all these years. But the romantic aspect of our relationship ended a long time ago. We still live together, because it works for us. We enjoy each other’s company, and we love each other deeply, but as friends.”

“It’s just the most sickeningly healthy post-breakup relationship ever,” Adam piped up with a small smile.

“You don’t like it?’ Gale asked the man, absorbing this unexpected new information.

“Oh, I can’t mind too much. Randy set us up.”

“Yes. Much to his amusement, I’ve fallen for another actor.”

“I was in a play with Randy last spring. He’s a great guy. I, um… really hope he’s going to be okay. I’m sure he will.”

Gale nodded first at the understatement, and then the sentiment that followed, still feeling lost. “You guys going out?”

“It’s hard to feel like celebrating, but it’ll be midnight soon. And Randy would bitch at me endlessly if we didn’t at least try to ring in the new year. I finally convinced his parents to go to dinner for that same reason. Hopefully, they’ll get some rest, too. They’ve been here nearly around the clock.”

“So have you,” said Gale, knowing Simon had been, even if he hadn’t been there to see. “You should enjoy yourself. I’ll be here with him.”

“Good.” Simon slipped his arms into his coat as Adam held it up, then did the same for Adam. They began to walk away, but Simon stopped for a moment, turning back. “Gale?”

Gale waited, expecting some lame “Happy New Year,” but instead…

“He wanted me to find the kind of love he had found… even if he had let it go.”

***

_Morning is waking up_  
_And sometimes it's more than just enough_  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me, you little shit?… Great. Now you’re making me sound like Brian.

“Peter’s a smart fucker. Didn’t take him five seconds, over the phone, to smack me in the face. Staying away out of some misguided idea of coma patient’s own good?” Gale sucked in a breath, making a hissing sound through his teeth, and shook his head. “Much too Brian and Justin for my comfort level, never mind yours. You would kick my ass if I didn’t put a stop to it… wouldn’t you?

“I should kick your ass, you know that? I ask again… Why didn’t you tell me you and Simon broke up? Why did you lie to me?”

In the responding silence, Gale was left to think about their conversation in Randy’s car, and it seemed… maybe Randy hadn’t actually lied. Gale had bitterly asked very leading questions, which were affirmed with the slightest nod or words that _sounded_ like an answer… _“Simon takes good care of me.”_ … Saying they still lived together wasn’t a lie either, but Randy knew what Gale was assuming. Why hadn’t he corrected him? Told him he was…

Then again, Randy had been the one to kiss Gale. And Gale had been the one to say that Randy should go home to Simon.

“I should have given you a reason to believe it would still matter to me.”

From somewhere down the hall, a countdown was heard… from ten to one, to noisemakers and _“Happy New Year!”_ … and voices on multiple televisions singing that song Randy had talked about.

“That’s not us, Rand.” Gale bent carefully towards the bed, hovering, then pressing a kiss as close as he could to the side of Randy’s mouth. He breathed a sigh of relief at not disturbing the breathing tube, and noted that someone had applied some kind of balm to Randy’s lips, which now appeared as soft as ever. “Never forgotten…

“Fuck, Rand. It’s 2010. How did that happen? That just sounds like sci-fi time, there… I think I feel another gray hair coming in. Wake up and help me check.

“The person you’re with at midnight is supposed to be who you’re with all year, you know. I’ll take the fact that you didn’t get up and run the fuck away as a sign to mean you want me around. That’s good… because I’m not going anywhere.”

Gale fell asleep with his head on the bed, just touching the side of Randy’s thigh, and pale hand held pressed to his cheek.

*****

_Jan. 10, 2010..._

_When all that you need to love  
Is in front of your eyes_

“You know what, Harrison? You are a popular guy.”

Countless people had visited the hospital over the past two weeks. Randy’s brother had arrived on the first of the year, filled with guilt at not getting there sooner, and he and Simon were trying to sort out the insurance and financial issues involved with such a lengthy hospital stay. Randy’s friend Marci showed up quite a lot, never letting her sadness or fear get in the way of what she was working on… whether it was calling anyone and everyone who knew him who might not have heard the news, going on Starbucks runs when cafeteria coffee just wouldn’t cut it, or making sure tAB kept running smoothly. And his room had filled to bursting several times with flowers from fans or colleagues from BTF or Broadway, at which point his parents would see that they were shared with other patients.

One of the sweeter nurses, Noemi, had told Gale that smells such as flowers could reach the coma victim, especially if they held particular meaning to them. Gale couldn’t think of a flower that meant a lot to Randy, but it did give him the idea to bring in a bottle of that cologne… the one Randy always liked best on him… and spray it in the air, and on himself.

“I smell this good and still they come to see you.”

Nearly everyone ever associated with _Queer As Folk_ had either shown up or called. And for some reason Gale couldn’t understand, they all called _his_ phone, which he handed off to Marci or Noemi if he could, or else just let go to voice mail. It was enough, the ones he had to deal with in person.

Not that he wasn’t glad to see them, because he was. He’d missed them all. Even Hal. Gale had been ready to smack him down at the slightest smartass comment, but Hal was respectful, even genuinely teary, and without snark. After seeing Randy, he’d taken some of the extra flowers to the children’s wing and regaled the kids with his best knock-knock jokes.

And Sharon and Thea must still be having some kind of contest to see who could give the best, most supportive hugs. But Gale wondered why everybody was consoling _him_ , specifically. They reached out to Randy’s family, of course, and Simon. But why did the cast console him more than they did each other?

_It's in front of your eyes_

He knew why. There had been very little they were able to conceal from the others. Feelings more than actions, maybe, but those had leaked out over the years as well. He loved that they cared, but all the sympathetic looks were starting to make him crazy.

“This is not the five years post-show reunion I imagined, Rand. Then again, it might be the only way you and I would have shown up. Clever.”

The only thing getting to him more than the looks were all the questions they kept asking about how Randy was doing. Gale’s medical terminology had not much advanced beyond “coma.” He got his news of Randy’s condition through Simon, or Randy’s parents, and he mostly just listened for cheerful tone and looked for hopeful eyes. The words became a soft buzzing that took him inside his head and let him escape, and not alone.

“You know what word I know, Rand? ‘Awake.’ And when you wake up, and you open your eyes… and you really see me, and you squeeze my hand… and get pissed off ‘cause your body feels all heavy and you’ve got a tube up your nose … I’ll be able to diagnose that one myself.

“Okay, time for a confession. I thought about you a lot over the years. You’re right, that’s not much of a confession. But, hold on… In Frisco, I would go down to Harrison Street… yeah, yeah… and go to this little café, or sometimes this old record store… and have imaginary conversations with you. Yeah, I know that’s fucking sad.

“Conversations about what? Fuck if I know. Remembering old times. Lamenting no new times. You insulting the food I’d order or approving of the music I’d pick up. Anything.

“Course, sometimes while I’m there, I might slip into Blow Buddies and imagine you… Never mind.

“Alonso better not be listening.” Alonso was the rather large security guard Simon and Gale had mutually decided to hire to stand outside Randy’s room. Hospital security was all well and good, but they didn’t want to run the risk of one of Randy’s overly enthusiastic fans sneaking in and throwing themselves on him, the attempt of which was not at all unlikely. He was also there to watch out for the press, although they hadn’t been much of a presence beyond the first few days, and Simon mostly dealt with them himself. Randy wasn’t considered a big story outside of New York, the latest starlet not wearing underwear deemed more important news.

Sixteen days, it had been. The doctors had weaned him off the ventilator, and he’d been breathing on his own for a while now, but otherwise his condition hadn’t changed. Tests showed no definite brain injury, so the doctors believed Randy could wake up at any time. But they’d been saying that for two weeks.

“Why are you being such a drama queen, Rand? You’ve beaten Justin’s coma, okay? I think that’s enough now.”

*****

_Jan. 26, 2010..._

“How was his physical therapy today?”

“Maybe he’ll tell you. He’s not talking to me.”

“Well, I bet I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking you need to remember to eat. I swear, you’ve lost more weight than the kid has.”

“Fine. Hook me up with a feeding tube.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Noemi laughed. “But we’ll worry about you later. Right now, I am here to give Mr. Harrison a makeover.”

“Makeover?”

“I asked his mom. Thought I’d shave that beard off. It’s getting a little much.”

Gale smiled tiredly at the thought of Randy’s face, clean-shaven. “Sounds good.”

“Would you like to do the honors?”

“Huh? What, shave him? Are you even allowed to let me do that?”

“Family is allowed to see to the patient’s grooming, yes.”

“I’m not family.”

“That’s just a word. You’re here constantly, talking to him, holding his hand, looking at him like that… You’re something very important. And you’ve earned _these_.”

She wheeled a cart carrying supplies… razor, shaving cream, bowl of warm water, small towel… up to Gale, winked, and left the room. Gale looked down at Randy.

“Hey, she’s cute, isn’t she? Maybe I should ask her out sometime. You know, if you won’t wake up. I’ll take her to dinner and let her feed me. Then maybe play doctor.”

Gale looked to the machine that monitored Randy’s heart rate. He could have sworn he saw it go up a few numbers, but he also wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

_And I never want to let you down  
Forgive me if I slip away_

“I was kidding, all right? I’ve tried everything else. I thought maybe jealousy might give you a kick-start. But I’m not going out with Nurse Noemi. Even if I tried, she’s seen me in here with you… fucking crying sometimes… enough to _know_. I think she’d just pat my head and tell me not to give up.”

He started to lather Randy’s face and shave him as he spoke.

“And I’m not… I’m not giving up, Rand.”

It felt like some people were. There had been so many visitors, such an outpouring of concern and affection those first couple of weeks. But it had been a fucking month now. People got a little quieter every day. Even Simon and Marci were - understandably - working more and spending less time at the hospital lately. But Gale… well, that was one of the pluses of being a photographer who mostly set his own schedule. He practically lived at the hospital, showering and getting a few hours sleep here and there at Mark’s, and all the while screening calls from his publisher.

“Your play opened. Yes, without you. I know you hate not being part of it, but you may have made some starry-eyed kid’s dream come true. I think it’s good they let your understudy take it instead of scrambling to cast a ‘name.’ I know you don’t think you’re a name, but you’ve really made one for yourself on the stage, Rand. You know how proud I am of you?

“Anyway, first performance was tonight. Marci said it was great, though of course you would have made it better. And during the bows, the kid playing your part held up a picture of you, and they fucking took the roof off the place with the standing ovation they gave you.

“I’m gonna make another confession, while I’ve got you here like this… You know how we weren’t supposed to see each other the last five years, right? Well… I cheated. I, uh… went to see you in nearly every play you were in. I saw you in _Edward II_ , and _Mrs. Warren’s_ , and _Cuckoo’s Nest_ , fuck, and… I can’t even fucking remember them all right now, but you were incredible in all of them. I’d just sneak in, back row, and hurry away before you or - God willing - anyone else knew I was there. But I needed to be close enough to you to see you, hear your voice, watch you all lit up. Feel you putting a spell on the whole damn audience, making them fall in love with you.

“The last year or so, I stopped. It just got too tough. Kept getting tougher instead of easier.”

_Sometimes it's hard to find the ground_  
_Cause I keep on falling as I try to get away_  
_From this crazy world_

Gale carefully dragged the blade over the softened skin, catching the remaining hairs along Randy’s throat and jawline. When he was done, he cleaned Randy’s face with the dampened towel.

“I remember you doing this to me once. At your place, one morning. We were late to the set because you couldn’t stop touching me.

“I hear you rolling your eyes. I never said it was just you.” Gale sat on the side of the bed and leaned in, sliding one hand inside the top of Randy’s gown, to rest warm on his shoulder. “But you said it was hot having me at your mercy… like that was a new thing. And you said my skin felt almost as good as _inside_.” His nose rubbed the fragrant cheek before him, breathing in, then buried in the silken neck. “You always felt that good everywhere.”

An hour later, Randy’s mom found Gale asleep in that position… feet on the floor, weight precariously balanced, neck bent forward, nearly suffocating in the curve of her son’s shoulder. It was the sweetest picture, and she hated to separate them. But she hoped to coax Gale into getting some real rest, so she gently roused him, wrapping her arms around him to pull and then push him up to standing.

“C’mon, honey. On my son’s behalf, I’m going to have to insist you start taking better care of yourself.”

Gale turned sleepy, sad eyes towards her and said, “Why won’t he wake up and be with me?”

She hugged him and tried not to cry.

*****

_February 7, 2010..._

“You like how I’ve decorated the place?”

The walls, the bedside table, even the bed itself were covered in pictures. Breathtaking photographs of San Francisco, New York, Toronto, both black & white and color. And mostly candid ones of people to whom those cities… and one particular person… were very important.

Randy and Simon. Randy and his family. Randy on stage. Randy singing karaoke. Randy with all the QAF gang. Randy and Gale.

At Gale’s request, Simon had found quite a few in Randy’s room at their apartment. Gale had a lot on his laptop, and the rest he fucking Google image searched and printed. There were about fifty pictures of the two of them on display. There was even representation of them in crayon, thanks to his godchildren.

“Hailey and Jacob wanted to see pictures of you, so I showed them. She drew this… Nah, wait, first she drew this one. You’re asleep and I’m making a sad face. But then she drew this one, where you’ve woken up. See how happy I am?

“Oh, and he’s five, you know. He drew this one of you, me, and SpongeBob SquarePants all hanging out… because his dad told him we were on TV."

Gale laughed, but it didn’t last. His head dropped forward, eyes seeing only darkness, mouth mumbling into his arms.

_And I never want to let you down  
Forgive me if I slip away_

“This has to stop, Rand. You have to fix it. I swear, you’re throwing something off-balance in the universe by being this still and this quiet for so long. It’s just not right. Six weeks. Six fucking weeks. I’m praying more… just _talking_ more than I ever have in my whole life previous to this.

“Your mom asked me, after the first couple of weeks… not because she wanted me to go, but just because she was concerned about me… if I didn’t need to get back to my life. You know what I told her? I said I was trying to get back to the only life I’d ever really loved.

“Because… that’s you, and… I love you… and I’m tired… I was tired for five years… You said we were living in limbo when we were together, but that was _really_ living in limbo… without you, and now… you’re here, I’m touching you…” He stroked Randy’s palm with the pad of his thumb, like he’d been doing for forever, it seemed. “But I’m still without… still waiting, so… fucking tired.”

Gale thought he had drifted off and was dreaming when he felt something tickle the sensitive skin between his thumb and index finger. And when he felt a shaky pressure against his knuckle… a slight squeeze…

Please… God.

Once he’d registered that it was real, he was afraid to look up. He knew those kind of movements could happen while a person was still comatose. Just like they could open their eyes while they were still…

So fucking blue.

Gale turned his head and saw them again. Randy’s eyes were open, but more than that, they were fixed on him. Fixed and _seeing_.

“Rand, you’re… Are you…?”

Randy’s lips formed the slightest, most beautiful smile in answer, and Gale felt the stress of all those weeks dissolve in his veins and his heart start beating again, and it was so overwhelming, he started sobbing. Hot tears racing down his face, gulping for air, he fell to his knees beside the bed. Soon, fingers were sweetly, awkwardly patting his hair.

“ _G-ale…_ ”

The word was barely a whisper, the voice out of use, the mouth impossibly dry, but Randy had spoken. Spoken his name. Taking Randy’s hand in his once more, Gale hushed to listen.

“ _I love you… too_.”

_When all that I've known is lost and found  
I promise you I, I'll come back to you one day_

***

“This room looks like a hell of a party hit it.”

Gale had been reluctant to leave Randy for even two seconds, for fear he would slip back under. But he could not have been happier to be able to tell his mother her boy was back with them. “Randy’s awake” became the best words he’d ever spoken. He called Simon and said them to him, and he and Adam were there in ten minutes. He said them to Scott, who promised to call the others. He said them to the nurses’ desk and any doctors he saw, even after they all knew. Mostly, he kept saying them to himself, to keep believing until he got time with Randy again.

“Just some happy people. Where’ve you been?”

“I wanted to give them time with you. They’ve all been fucking out of their minds worried. Didn’t want to hog you.”

“Maybe I want you t-to.” Randy starting coughing and Gale was quickly at his side with a cup of water, tipping it to his lips and helping him drink slowly. “Thank you.”

“It’s just water. Not even that fancy bottled kind you like…”

“Not just for that. For… I heard you. The whole time, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“I was… lost. But I knew I’d find you.”

“You’re smart like that.”

“Sorry I took so long.”

“You’re worth waiting for.”

Randy blushed and Gale touched the rose of his cheek.

“…So, I have one question…Did I miss Valentine’s Day?”

“What?”

“Because I remember being on top of the Empire State Building with you, but I have a feeling it was in my head.”

“You were serious when you said to meet you there?”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s not ’til next week, but I don’t think your doctor’s gonna give the okay.”

Randy made a face… like this coma thing was really becoming a nuisance. Gale laughed at that, knowing he was really, truly back, and finally kissed him on the mouth. Licked Randy’s lips a little and tried not to just eat him up.

Randy grinned. “But will you still be my Valentine?”

Hailey had insisted on Valentine’s decorations as well. Gale reached for a paper heart that had “Be Mine” written on it and handed it to Randy in answer.

Tired again from all the excitement of waking, his eyes fluttered dreamily as he pulled Gale’s hand to rest over his heart… knowing that even if he did fall asleep, he _would_ wake up… and Gale would be right there. That they were done staying away from each other. Done wasting time.

“Then that’s all I need. I think it’s all I’ve ever needed.”

_Where has that old friend gone_  
_Lost in a February song_  
_Tell him it won't be long_  
_Til he opens his eyes_  
_Opens his eyes_


End file.
